


The Colors of a Smile

by CSKazaam



Series: FFVII [6]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-01
Updated: 2013-05-01
Packaged: 2017-12-10 01:21:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/780127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CSKazaam/pseuds/CSKazaam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a promise to Zack, Cloud has vowed to get Sephiroth to smile. The thing is, there's just not that much to smile about these days, and Cloud doesn't even know the man. What's a desperate infantryman to do when nothing seems to work?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Colors of a Smile

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ShadesOfImagination](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadesOfImagination/gifts).



> This was written for ShadesOfImagination, as part of the 2013 DOINK! Final Fantasy Exchange! The prompt I used was: 
> 
> Request #1  
> Fandom(s): Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII  
> Request: Short, sweet and to the point. Sephiroth/Cloud is, by far, my OTP of OTPs and I'd love to see someone take a new spin on Cloud being creative with getting Sephiroth to smile. They don't need to be in any kind of relationship but, the more unconventional the idea, the better. Bonus points if Cloud is a good mix of confident and understandably worried that this idea of his might be a little out there for someone like Sephiroth.
> 
> Once again, I got a little in over my head in ending up with characters I haven't written that much for before, particularly Cloud. But that's what makes the exchange so challenging, and so rewarding once it's done!
> 
> This is my first time writing anything extensive from Cloud's point of view. I was shooting for a mixture of quiet confidence, aloofness, and insecurity, though the insecurity is more to do with what he needs to do in the fic, than how I view the character. 
> 
> No follow-on stories planned for this one ... though it does lay the groundwork for a certain future obsession of Sephiroth's. >_>
> 
> Note: Paper textures provided by: [milokey](http://milokey.deviantart.com/art/Texture-Recycled-Paper-65768878) and [stressedjenny](http://stressedjenny.deviantart.com/art/Paper-for-you-177880005).  
> (Hover over the letters for a printed version of the message!)

_"Hey, Cloud, watch over Sephiroth for me?"_

It had started with that innocent request. As Zack had left for the chopper, with a false smile and a wave, to a vacation both knew he didn't need and didn't want, he'd tossed those words over his shoulder.

_Watch over Sephiroth._

Cloud knew it had been one of those things you say just to say, with no real meaning behind it, no real _expectation_ of services done or promises fulfilled. Or it would have been, had it come from anyone else, or had it been under any other circumstances.

But Cloud had _seen_ the pain in Zack's eyes, the heartache, the longing, the pleading that was not pleading, because of course nobody ever says those things and expects anyone to _really_ act on them … But this was _Zack_. And Zack was _not_ anyone else. He was the kind of person where those kinds of things … actually _meant_ something. A passing greeting of "How's it goin'?" would prompt him to tell you how it really _was_ going (if it had been a year ago), or a momentarily puzzled expression if you just kept walking after his asking you the same thing.

So when Zack asked Cloud to watch over Sephiroth, Cloud didn't need to think twice about it. He did anyway, of course, because by then Zack had known that some things were said just to be said, weren't meant to be taken to heart (why did the world have to be so insincere?); and because, _really_ … an infantryman watching over the beyond-First Class General of SOLDIER?

It was ridiculous.

But … who else was supposed to watch over Sephiroth? Cloud had begun to see, through the Mako blue-violet eyes of Zack Fair, what the rest of the world could _not_ see, what Cloud himself had not been able to see, before.

Sephiroth … was not the man the world believed him to be. He was not the man _Zack_ had believed him to be, not originally. There was _more_ to him than simple duty to ShinRa, more than just following orders and accomplishing missions to perfection, more than the awesome power of the Demon of Wutai … and it ran _deep_ , deep enough that barely a glimmer could be seen on the surface most times. And, like any underground river, it was strong. It was strong enough to move even the General of SOLDIER from his stoicism, for any river, no matter how smooth, how deep, had eddies visible on the surface.

It was Zack's discovery of Sephiroth as _more than Sephiroth_ that had taught Cloud to look for those eddies.

Sephiroth was hurting. It was to be expected, of course, except that one never really expected that sort of thing from Sephiroth. The evidence was there, in the small eddies of his face … the way his eyes turned down and to the left at a break in conversation when he was no longer required to pay attention, the way the lines around his mouth and eyes did not soften when a favored person or memory came to mind, the way he'd ceased to glance at things that had once interested him, and the way that a joke would roll off of him without so much as a smirk, grunt, or shake of the head. He no longer appeared to observe sparring between the Firsts, no longer appeared in public for anything other than transit to and from missions.

He was pulling away. He was isolating himself. And it was no wonder, because when Zack had lost a beloved mentor and that mentor's childhood friend, Sephiroth had lost two best friends and – essentially – the men who had come to be his family. Both felt that they had failed the other, and with each dealing with the pain of loss, neither was quite able to provide the comfort the other needed.

But what was Cloud supposed to do about that? Oh, he wanted to help, certainly. He did not want to let Zack down, and besides … Sephiroth had always been his hero. And, now that Cloud could begin to see his _human_ side … Sephiroth was even more important to him. Cloud didn't want to see him suffer. Now, with Zack away, Sephiroth had no one to turn to. He was truly alone, and he didn't deserve that. Cloud wanted to see him happy again. He wanted to see Sephiroth _smile._

That didn't mean Cloud would be able to make it happen, however.

The truth was that Cloud did not _know_ Sephiroth. And Sephiroth did not know Cloud. Cloud had watched him from afar, learning to see the cues that Zack had talked about, learning to see Sephiroth for _Sephiroth_ , and not the public face the world saw. But despite that, the two had never had occasion to meet in person, aside from the intermittent brush in the hallways. Cloud was an infantryman and Sephiroth, the General of SOLDIER. The huge gap in rank and the fact that Cloud was in a completely different department in the first place meant that there was little association between them, and certainly no personal contact.

Zack had promised to introduce them, of course … but that had yet to happen. Cloud had met Zack on the very mission the SOLDIER had been forced to kill his own mentor, and the whirlwind of grief and activity that followed meant that he hadn't had much time to make good on promises. Cloud didn't blame him for that, of course. Besides, as much as he looked forward to meeting the general, he was nervous. And anything other than a professional acquaintance would have been … well … unprofessional.

But that brought Cloud right back to where he was in the first place – wondering how on _Gaia_ he was supposed to fulfill the promise he'd made to Zack. He supposed he could just go right up and knock on the general's door, introduce himself as Zack's friend, and start expressing his concern. But who'd want that? Even if Zack had told Sephiroth about Cloud – and Cloud knew he had, for Zack had mentioned it several times – knowing _of_ someone was not the same thing as wanting to spill all your problems to them, or wanting to accept their comfort for something you didn't want others to see in the first place.

Well, maybe it didn't _have_ to be a personal effort. Sometimes a kind note was all someone needed to cheer up. Cloud wouldn't even need to sign it – he didn't want Sephiroth to get the impression that Zack had somehow swindled Cloud into doing something for him, that Cloud wasn't doing this because he _wanted_ to do this. So, he would just keep it … anonymous.

[ ](http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/cskazaam/12972679/114053/114053_original.jpg)

No. No, no, no, that was too _stiff._ It sounded like it was coming from some military subordinate – which, okay, it _was_ – and like someone had _died_ … which, yeah, that was true, too. But it wasn't supposed to _sound_ that way. It needed to be more … more supportive, more _personal_ …

[ ](http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/cskazaam/12972679/114303/114303_original.jpg)

Gaia, _what?_ That was _way_ too … too … _stalkerish._ And besides, what would Cloud even invite Sephiroth to? He hadn't thought that far. Not to mention that no one in his right mind, Sephiroth or anyone else, would accept an invite from a total stranger. Even if Sephiroth would accept, Cloud wasn't entirely sure what the man would like. Tickets to the next _Loveless_ play? No, that was much too awkward, and Sephiroth didn't even like _Loveless_ , as far as Cloud knew from Zack … and asking him to sit through the play that his dead best friend had loved and routinely quoted wouldn't do _anything_ to cheer him up.

Dinner was probably out, too. That would be just as awkward. Lunch? No, awkward still – too fleeting, and Cloud didn't know the kind of food Sephiroth liked, anyway. Besides, the image of Cloud buying Sephiroth a lunch, given their extreme differences in pay … well … it was laughable.

After several more attempts at creating a letter that was not … too _fanboyish_ … too _insincere_ … too _distant_ … too _touchy-feely_ … too _cheerful_ … too _depressing_ … Cloud finally managed something that was just the right mix of caring and honest.

[ ](http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/cskazaam/12972679/114677/114677_original.jpg)

Satisfied at last, Cloud left the letter with Sephiroth's secretary, at a time early enough that Cloud knew the man wouldn't be in his office, and so wouldn't come across Cloud leaving it there. Feeling like he'd accomplished something, he left in somewhat higher spirits than he'd been in before delivering the letter, and proceeded to surreptitiously observe Sephiroth, between posts, for the rest of the day to see if his letter had had any effect.

It didn't.

There was no discernible change in Sephiroth's outward demeanor at all, and even when Cloud managed to cross paths with him later that day and utter a soft, but cheerful, "Good evening, sir!" – behind the safety of his helmet, of course – Sephiroth only nodded a solemn acknowledgement and continued on his way.

Had Sephiroth even gotten the letter?

That night, bent on making sure Sephiroth got at least one letter of support to cheer him up, Cloud wrote a second note for delivery the next morning.

[ ](http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/cskazaam/12972679/114940/114940_original.jpg)

There was no change after that letter, either.

The secretary assured Cloud that Sephiroth had gotten the letters, but maybe the First had never bothered to read them. And, now that Cloud thought about it, why should he? He was a busy man, with his now top First on a forced vacation … he'd have a lot to deal with. He didn't need to spend the time reading what was essentially fan mail, on top of everything else.

So, Cloud went back to work, trying to concoct a plot to cheer Sephiroth up. No, perhaps not even that – just to get Sephiroth to _smile_ , for just a moment. For, in the present circumstances, _cheering up_ was too much to ask for. But if Sephiroth could know that he was thought about, cared about, that he and the things that happened to him _mattered_ to someone else, and that the world did not rest solely upon his shoulders … then maybe that would be just enough, for a brief, fleeting moment, for him to relax, to let go … and to smile. Cloud realized that he had never once seen Sephiroth smile.

Cloud began to think back through all the things Zack had ever told him about Sephiroth. What he liked, what he didn't, what made him laugh (for, yes, that _had_ happened, though the tale took on mythical proportions to Cloud) … and to figure out whether he could use any of that in his plan to get Sephiroth to smile.

He knew Sephiroth liked chocolate, specifically, a strange concoction from Gongaga called firecracker frogs. He liked lemon drops, too, and ice cream – strawberry – and had a fondness for dumbapple pie, apparently a specialty of Angeal Hewley's. He liked greenery and flowering things – red, violet, and white, though Cloud didn't know why – and poetry, for some reason, despite Genesis' influence. Sephiroth also had an appreciation for fine arts and music. Zack had even told Cloud that Sephiroth played the piano, though Cloud wasn't sure he believed it.

In addition to that, Cloud knew that Sephiroth appreciated the art of warfare, not merely as a tool to get the job done, but for the beauty of the practice and its movements themselves. He was a skilled materia user, a connoisseur of bladed weapons of all kinds, and knowledgeable of many forms of combat.

On the third day, Cloud left Sephiroth another note, but attached to it was a small bag of lemon drops. The fourth day, a package of three firecracker frogs, which had taken Cloud the entire afternoon and evening, and all over Midgar, just to find.

Both were returned unopened.

The fifth day saw Cloud leave a single white flower. It was found sitting on the secretary's desk the next morning.

On the sixth day, Cloud was scrambling for more ideas. On the seventh, he'd found an announcement for a painting exhibit, and left that in lieu of his normal note. On the eighth day, Cloud found himself browsing through poetry and books on swords, before giving that up as a lost cause – poetry was far too subjective, and, for all Cloud knew, Sephiroth already had all the weapon books he could want.

And still, after all that, there seemed to be no change to Sephiroth's melancholy mood.

Cloud began to despair. He was never going to get Sephiroth to smile. He was going to fail Zack.

Desperate, Cloud made one more, last-ditch effort for help. He called up Zack's friend, Kunsel.

* * *

As the rain streamed down his visor and trickled down his face and the back of his neck, Cloud was pretty sure that he hated his life right about now. ShinRa infantry uniforms worked pretty well at keeping the cold out, but they were definitely _not_ waterproof. The pauldrons and leather straps on his shoulders had helped to keep the rain from soaking in right away, but the downpour was insistent, and refused to let him go unscathed. To add insult to injury, his visor's heads-up display was flickering – probably a short in the helmet somewhere. Grimacing, Cloud tugged the scarf closer around his neck. He hadn't banked on the weather in Kalm to be so … _wet._

Kalm was in the middle of their spring festival, and President ShinRa had seen fit to send Sephiroth and a small contingent of SOLDIERs and infantry as a show of ShinRa's enduring strength and perseverance in the face of so many recent SOLDIER losses and Avalanche attacks. They were to make an appearance in the festival parade, with Sephiroth giving some kind of speech. It was part of a short tour across the country, and, with only a few days left before Zack's return, Cloud had jumped on it as his last chance to make good on his promise to Zack, and to get Sephiroth to smile. Kunsel had been able to pull the strings needed to get him assigned to the infantry escort.

The thing was, Cloud still had no idea just how exactly he was supposed to fulfill that promise, and the erratic weather in Kalm did not help one bit.

At first, the opportunity of the festival opened up a whole host of possibilities. Fixated on getting Sephiroth to smile, Cloud had thought with certainty that there would be _something_ there to do the trick. There were throngs of cheerful festival goers, quaint (in Midgarian terms) rows of tall, steep-roofed houses on cobblestone streets lined with stalls and vendors shouting their wares that consisted of everything imaginable: colorful fabrics and glassware, pottery and hand-forged weaponry, glittering materia and accessories, handmade toys and leatherworks. And the array of food, spice, perfume, music, flags, and banners combined for a dizzying atmosphere of color, celebration, and commerce. With parades, impromptu performances, puppet shows, and evening theatre, surely there would be something Sephiroth could enjoy.

It was with no little bafflement and frustration, then, that Cloud watched Sephiroth retreat from the carefree bustle of the revelries, after their scheduled appearances, to hide in the inn and _mope_.

Yes, _mope_. Cloud was certain of it now, as he kicked a stray pebble along on his assigned patrol duty to augment the local security. Despite everything he'd tried to do on his mission to get the man to smile, Sephiroth would have none of it. He'd brought back festival treats to share (the other SOLDIERs and infantrymen ended up eating them), he'd guided their public tour of the town a little closer than necessary to the puppy breeder in the morning (Sephiroth did not even glance at them), and past the soothing woodwinds of the open-air concert in the evening (Sephiroth simply hurried by). He had no eye for the weapon demonstrations, no interest in the circus performers, and no desire to browse for any of the numerous souvenirs, both useful and frivolous, that were hawked along every main thoroughfare in the town.

The result, after a week of casting aside one crazy idea after another, both back in Midgar and here in Kalm, was that Cloud had absolutely no idea what could possibly pull Sephiroth from the depression he'd slipped into.

And now, Cloud mused, Sephiroth was probably holed up inside, staring out the window at the rain, or reading a book. _By himself._ And though it was probably warranted at the moment – the rain had chased most people back inside as the vendors hustled their wares under cover and closed up shop, save for the brave umbrella'd individual perusing storefront windows – if this trip's past experience was anything to go by, as soon as the rain ended, the sun would come out, awnings would unfurl, merchandise would appear, and the townspeople would flood back to the streets as if the fleeting shower had never happened. But Sephiroth would not.

It was a mark of Cloud's desperation that he was out here in the rain – fulfilling his patrol duty, but probably unnecessarily, as everyone else was waiting out the downpour in the local tavern. But they were scheduled to leave _tomorrow_ , and Cloud didn't have much time left. If he couldn't find something now, who knew when the opportunity would arise again?

As he continued along, attacking puddles and cobblestone relentlessly with his boots as if they were the source of his problems, the rain eventually began to lessen, and, within a few minutes, had diminished to a trickle. The sky began to lighten as the clouds started to break apart in the distance. Tired of the visor's tint and wet hair plastered to his neck, Cloud doffed his helmet and shook his head, blond spikes flying.

The cool, rain-washed air was a blessing. Closing his eyes, Cloud raised his face to the sky, feeling his dour mood lift somewhat. Never a big fan of rain, he supposed the weather just made the situation more miserable than it really had to be … even if there still didn't seem to be any answer to it.

He'd come to the end of his patrol route (at least he certainly had the right to claim he'd done his duty for the day, while the others slacked off), so maybe he'd head back, warm up and dry off, and approach things from a fresh perspective.

Breathing deeply, the air full of the rich, fresh scent of rain and wet dirt and greenery, Cloud lowered his head and opened his eyes.

And there, at the end of the street, in the center of a wide, flagstone courtyard at the edge of town, and backlit by the emerging sunlight … was exactly what he'd been looking for.

* * *

Everything else had been too mundane – too conventional, too silly – and all his other ideas too unrealistic. But maybe this was the craziest yet, Cloud thought, as he approached the small wooden platform, Sephiroth in tow.

The hot air balloon towered high above them, having weathered the impromptu shower well. It was a bright golden orange, capped by a many-pointed star of sky blue, and ringed at its widest point by white diamonds. Colors enhanced by the overcast and rain, the balloon glistened in the light breaking through the scattering clouds. The tethers roping the balloon to the platform creaked as the massive thing shifted in the light breeze, the thick, woven basked butting up against the wood.

Cloud's heart drummed in his chest at the thought of what he was about to do. Mouth dry, he wondered for the hundredth time since they'd left the inn whether Sephiroth could read minds, and just as quickly dismissed it, telling himself to calm down. They were out here on the pretense of inspection, or so he'd informed Sephiroth. He'd reported that Kalm security had requested assistance in inspecting the safety of various structures after the brief storm, and since it was _work_ , Cloud correctly assumed that Sephiroth would agree to drag himself away from the inn, just to have something to do that kept his mind from … other things. There was no way Sephiroth could tell that he was lying.

Right?

Regardless, this was something that Cloud had to do for Zack … _and_ for Sephiroth. He'd realized, when he saw the balloon, that the key to cheering Sephiroth up was not to gift him with various assorted items, but to get him to relax, _truly_ relax … and that the only way to do that was to get him away from work and everything else that reminded him of his responsibilities and what he had lost. But Sephiroth would never voluntarily abandon work, even when he had the time for it … even when he _needed_ it. Any activity on the ground Cloud could possibly propose and drag Sephiroth to would almost certainly result in the man leaving to isolate himself or to go back to work. That meant that Cloud needed to forcefully get Sephiroth away – hence the deception – and to isolate him from all means of retreat – hence the balloon.

Or so that was the idea.

The problem was actually getting it to work.

Striding up to the pilot on the platform with all the official-looking confidence that Cloud wasn't confident he had, and a few quiet, but sure words (something along the lines of, "Hey, look, Sephiroth") , got both him and the general into the balloon's gondola with no questions asked. As Sephiroth glanced upward to inspect the burner and the envelope, Cloud turned to the pilot, still on the platform, and asked him to produce the documentation Cloud had no idea whether one needed for a balloon, but hoped the pilot would have. Luckily, it prompted the flustered man to turn around and rummage through a sack.

Quickly, praying that Sephiroth was not right behind him watching, Cloud drew his ShinRa-issued knife and vigorously sawed through both ropes tethering the balloon. They slowly began to rise. Swiftly un-shouldering his rifle, he shoved it against the railing to swing the basket away and ensure no one could reach them in time.

Well, he'd done it. Cloud stared dumbly at the retreating platform. When the pilot turned around only to stare with an equally dumbfounded expression, Cloud's soft-spoken apology did nothing to forestall the ensuing shout and arm waving. By this time, Sephiroth had joined him at the side of the basket.

They stared at each other for a moment in silence, the pilot's yells obnoxious in the background. Cloud's throat was bone dry, and he swallowed several times, working to find something to say as those green, slitted eyes studied him. Finally, the hollering getting on his nerves, Cloud kept his face carefully blank and reached up to twist the propane valve to the burner. The resulting roar of the flame drowned the pilot out.

When it cut off, he offered the only thing he could think of to say to the general.

"Oops."

* * *

"Zack's had an influence on you, I see," Sephiroth commented. "Did he put you up to this?" The man leaned against the bound wicker edge of the basket, gazing out at the golden-lit world beneath them. The lush greenery was dappled with cloud shadow, ridged, forested hills around them beginning to cast long fingers across the land. Kalm's slate blue roofs appeared as a child's toy set at this distance, shining with wetness from the rain. The clouds at fault, undersides still dark and heavy, were close, but nevertheless retreating, breaking into large puffs. In contrast, the deep blue of the sky opened above, the sun, opposite the clouds, just beginning its long descent to the horizon.

Lower back resting against the other side of the basket, arms crossed, Cloud remained silent for a moment before he answered.

"Actually, Zack doesn't know anything about this," he confessed. He tried to think of something more to say, but his brain failed him. Unfortunately, Cloud hadn't planned much further than getting the balloon airborne. The prospect of what to do once successful had taken a back seat – part of Cloud had been doubtful that he'd succeed in the first place.

Sephiroth was handling this extraordinarily well, Cloud thought. After all, getting marooned in a hot air balloon was not an everyday occurrence. Still, it was hard for him to tell exactly what Sephiroth thought about it … the man had faced away from him for most of their ascent, and his face was primarily unreadable, in any case.

At least Cloud hadn't been murdered yet. That was a good sign.

Several more minutes passed, before Sephiroth pivoted to face him, one silver brow arched.

"Why a hot air balloon?" he queried, voice calm, though Cloud sensed a subtle undercurrent of both curiosity and amusement.

Cloud shrugged. "Why not?" He crossed over to Sephiroth's side, looking over the landscape, in part to avoid the SOLDIER's direct gaze. "Seemed like a good idea at the time."

Sephiroth turned, reclining against the corner to watch him. He hummed, softly. "A little extreme just to spend some time with me, isn't it?"

"Would you have voluntarily gone anywhere else?" Cloud retorted softly. He shook his head. "It wasn't just to spend time with you. I thought you needed … some time away."

"Oh, did you?" Sephiroth smirked. "Away from what?"

Cloud shrugged again. "… Everything." His gaze slid over to meet Sephiroth's. Once there, he could tell, in the cool green eyes, that the man knew exactly what he meant.

Sephiroth drew away, raising his eyes to the clouds above. Cloud couldn't tell if he was isolating himself now, or if that tranquil expression truly was just that, as they drifted over the valley.

A roar of the burner boosted them over a nearing ridgeline, though they remained low enough to view the details of the trees and a flock of birds that startled at the sound. When it shut off and the blast of heat retreated, they were left in peaceful stillness, drifting along with the air currents.

Conversation vanished after that, as the ground and trees dropped away into another valley, split by the glittering sapphire of the Kalm River. It almost seemed as if they were not moving at all; it was merely the earth turning gracefully beneath them. Above, the sun illuminated the interior of the balloon in subdued brilliance, as if the bright, colorful fabrics of blue and orange were the stained glass windows of some grand cathedral. It was peaceful, serene … utterly magical.

They remained like that, for a long time, drifting on the air to wherever they were drifting to, as shadows lengthened, and the light grew more golden. All was hushed, save for the creaking of the ropes and the basket, the song of evening birds, and the occasional faint bark of a dog, in the distance. Together, Cloud and Sephiroth enjoyed the leisurely passing scenery.

For his part, despite his prior nervousness, Cloud found the silence comfortable, relaxing, a more than welcome departure from the bustle and demands of ShinRa, SOLDIER, and everything associated with them. And though Sephiroth's thoughts remained unspoken … Cloud liked to think, from the relaxed lines of the man's face and the loosened set of his shoulders, that, maybe, he felt the same way, too.

* * *

Sephiroth could have simply jumped from the balloon, Cloud realized later.

They had talked for a little bit, some about themselves, some about topics free of ShinRa and SOLDIER. But mostly they had watched the quieting world pass beneath them. Cloud had thought enough ahead to provide sandwiches for dinner, and so they did not descend until well after the sun had set. That had been an exercise in anxiety, since only Sephiroth could see the ground, and Cloud was operating the controls.

"Are you _sure_ we're clear?"

"We're clear. Descend now."

"Okay …"

"No, too slow; we're about to hit a rock. Climb."

" _When?_ "

" _Now._ "

They careened off the boulder, prompting a squawk. "It doesn't _work_ like that!"

Somehow they landed in one piece, the basket dangling two feet off the ground from a large tree in the center of a field. When Sephiroth proclaimed the landing "adequate," Cloud realized the SOLDIER's knowledge of balloon piloting was woefully incomplete. Of course, Cloud's was too, but at least he had grasped the basics during the flight. As they walked away from the only tree within a good 500 yards, he had to wonder whether Sephiroth had crashed them there on purpose.

A transport had come to collect them, the disgruntled pilot of the "runaway" balloon was notified that it had been found, and they had all proceeded with the scheduled tour.

Now, back at ShinRa, Cloud was faced with a rather disappointing realization.

Sephiroth had still not smiled. Not once.

Cloud had failed anyway.

He was left scrutinizing everything that had occurred during the tour, wondering where he had gone wrong, where he may have missed an opportunity to cheer Sephiroth up. The thing was, however, that there had been _no_ other chances for Cloud to draw Sephiroth away from his duties. None that he could identify, at any rate, and his mind kept wandering back to that impromptu balloon ride.

 _Sephiroth could have jumped_. At the beginning, where it would have been expected, he could have just stepped over the side of the basket and been done with the venture almost before it started. Or he could have ordered Cloud to descend, or simply handled the controls himself to do so.

Yet, he hadn't.

_Why?_

Had he enjoyed the excursion, despite not smiling once? At the time, Cloud had _thought_ that was the case … but now he doubted. Sephiroth hadn't said so, hadn't said anything in the way of his feeling about the matter at all, in fact. But he hadn't stopped them, either. And maybe _that_ was the key.

Still, Cloud agonized over it. Had the balloon been too much? He argued with himself over whether to try one last attempt. Zack was due back _tomorrow_ , and Cloud hadn't had the courage to face Sephiroth since they returned. Maybe he should just apologize and write the whole thing off as a bad idea. He'd _tried_. Zack had to give him that much, right? Maybe Zack's vacation had done him some good, and he could take over when he got back.

But … Cloud had _promised_. He'd promised to get Sephiroth to smile. Moreover, he'd promised _Zack_ , and you _never_ broke a promise to Zack. Ever.

Back to the drawing board it was, then. Cloud sighed, stopping in the mail room as he mulled over the situation.

He rarely received any mail, so it was with surprise that he pulled a letter from his box. It was a simple folded note, addressed on one side, in neat, angular cursive: " _Cloud Strife."_ Curious, he opened it to a precise, handwritten message.

[ ](http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/cskazaam/12972679/113712/113712_original.jpg)

At the last line, Cloud felt a flush of mortification. Sephiroth had _known_ about the other letters? They'd been anonymous! How had he figured it out!? Groaning, Cloud facepalmed, wishing to sink into the floor right then and there. How long had he known? Had he known about the other gifts? Gaia, he'd never be able to face the man again …

Taking another look at the note, Cloud reluctantly read through it a second time. Despite the embarrassment, he smiled faintly at the message. This time, however, when he got to the end, his thoughts came to a tumbling halt at what he saw. Slowly, his face split into a silly grin. There, in the lower right corner, sketched in deliberate, black ink, was exactly what he had been looking for.

Cloud had succeeded after all.

It was signed with a smile.

* * *

 

**End**


End file.
